


Say 'Nighty-Night' and Kiss Me

by 221b_hound



Series: Guitar Man [76]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Dreams, Gen, Growing Old Together, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Retirementlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_hound/pseuds/221b_hound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John are very old, living in their retirement cottage. Sherlock can't always make it up the stairs to his room, so he shares with John downstairs. And sometimes he wakes up laughing from his happy kissing dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say 'Nighty-Night' and Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written them this old before, but they are two content old men who won't let love be labelled. They must have grumpy days, but this certainly isn't one of them.
> 
> The song title is from 'Dream a Little Dream of Me' - I like the Mamas and the Papas version.
> 
> The last in the 221b Ficlet dream series (for now at least). More 221bs coming, and more stories too, though impending Employment will slow me down significantly!

At 89, Sherlock found it hard to walk upstairs to his room, so he’d sleep with John downstairs. He claimed it was to help John, mostly blind again. John let him pretend.

One night, John returned to bed after his sixth loo visit to hear Sherlock laughing in his sleep.

John eased himself into bed; felt Sherlock waking up, still laughing.

“Good dream?”

“My kissing dream,” murmured Sherlock, happy-sleepy.

“Oh?”

Sherlock came awake, mortified. Then he decided: _fuck it, I’m nearly 90. Who cares?_

He described his dream: everyone in it (some now gone) and how they kissed him. Hamish, Phin and Sheldrake (formerly Mina) too, now. “I’m a garden,” Sherlock explained, “Being watered.” He frowned. _What a rubbish explanation._

John rolled onto his side, felt for Sherlock’s face with his fingertips, leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth. “There you go.”

Sherlock moved to face John, embraced him with skinny arms. “No. Yours is this.” He kissed John’s mouth. Two crepe-soft, old men’s mouths pressed in warm regard, fond and chaste and lovely.

They parted. John smiled, blissfully content. “That’s nice.”

“Yes. It is.”

They shifted onto their backs; held hands in the dark.

“You’re still my favourite idiot,” said Sherlock.

“You’re mine too,” said John.

Then those two grand old men, holding hands, giggled like little boys.


End file.
